"Now, as you know," Marcus spoke up, leading the conversation. "Nova has been trapped in Beastaria, but he's alive and kicking. So, for now, we have to let him go and focus on another serious matter."
Everyone nodded.
Marcus stood at the head of the grand council chamber, and the air was heavy with suspense and anticipation. The room was colossal, an oval hall lined with banners of the Arican Guild, each one representing a division of power and purpose.
The faint light of enchanted lanterns flickered above, casting reflections off the polished mahogany table that stretched in a wide ring around him.
A dozen, maybe more, eyes were on him, expecting his next choice of words. The President of Arica was sitting in one of the chairs, surrounded by a couple of evolved Adventurers, not stronger than Elesch or Adam.
Faction leaders, military advisors, and top-ranked Adventurers in the Arican Guild, and many more, were all present. All had gathered for what was clearly no ordinary briefing.
At the far side of the table sat Elesch, her arms folded, eyes sharp and analytical; beside her was Adam, whose calm deanor contrasted with the hint of his nervousness flaring out.
Zane and Michael both leaned back, with boots crossed, while also wearing smirks that made people question whether they were really, truly loyal to the Arican guild. Then, there were other Adventurers, who were double-evolved or even close to it, who sat alongside the other four.
Then, at the very center was the President. Who looked intently at Marcus, expecting him to say sothing that would put a soothing lody in his ear. He wanted Marcus to provide him with information that would make the President skip his work and have a pleasurable night with his wife.
"For the past year," he said, his gaze sweeping across the room, "we have seen the Infernal Realm, otherwise known simply as Hell, begin to corrupt our world." Marcus's voice carried through the chamber like a blade drawn from its sheath. A low murmur rippled among the seated leaders, but Marcus didn't wait. "Many places in Africa, South Arica, Central Arica, Asia, Australia, and even fucking Antarctica have already suffered invasion. Demonic creatures slipping through dinsional fractures, hunting, burning, infecting. The fatalities are beyond count, and the few survivors speak of horrors that would make Jeffrey Dahr look like a bedti story."
The President shifted in his seat, trying to maintain composure as the grim details sank in. His eyes darted to Marcus, hungry for reassurance, for control, for sothing that could make the chaos seem containable.
Marcus gave him none. He continued, his tone hardening. "And now, Arica stands next in line. Cities are reporting sightings, small rifts, and demonic signatures. The contamination is spreading. But we're not going to sit and watch it happen. Not this ti."
He straightened his jacket, stepping closer to the table's glowing projection, a 3D map of the world, pulsing with red veins of infernal energy.
"To tackle this uphill battle against the Infernal Realm," Marcus declared, "I've ford a specialized strike team. A task force of our strongest. Those who have already stood face-to-face with death and refused to blink."
He turned, gesturing toward them. "Elesch, evolved F-rank," he said. Then Marcus motioned toward Adam. "And Adam, evolved F-rank." Marcus's gaze shifted to Zane and Michael. "Zane, evolved E-rank, and Michael evolved E-rank."
Marcus took a step back, scanning the rest of the group. "Alongside them, Rhea Linhart, double-evolved E-rank. Viktor Hale, double-evolved C-rank. And Selene Cortez, double-evolved D-rank."
He let the nas hang in the air for a mont longer, the collective power of the group speaking for itself. "This," Marcus said, his voice cold and composed and most resolute, "is Project Dominion. A strike force built not just to defend, but to reclaim what's ours. You'll be the ones to cut the Infernal corruption out at its root, before this world burns to ashes."
The President leaned forward, finally finding his voice. "And if they fail?"
Marcus looked at him squarely, his expression unflinching. "Then, Mr. President," he said, "we won't be around long enough to care who failed."
A deafening silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the soft hum of the enchanted lanterns above. The leaders and Adventurers exchanged glances, weighing the gravity of Marcus's words. For a mont, the weight of the world felt almost tangible.
Elesch's eyes scanned the room, cold and calculating. "We'll need intel on the different rifts' locations, Marcus. If this is going global, we can't waste ti chasing phantoms."
Adam nodded, tapping his fingers on the table. "Agreed. Logistics first, supplies, safe extraction points, reconnaissance. Every second counts. The growth of these rifts isn't linear; it's exponential."
Zane leaned forward, smirking. "Recon's my speciality. I can see everything and map the enemy's movents, so we don't need recon necessarily. But if this is going to be a war, we need ground-level intel, which is , and we need air-level intel. You're sending us to a hornet's nest with nothing but a stick if we don't know what we're facing."
Rhea joined in on the conversation, adjusting the folds of her cloak. "If we're going in, we need full dical prep. Contamination from the Infernal Realm is unlike anything we've treated before. One wrong exposure, and even you strong types are useless."
Marcus allowed a mont for their words to settle. "Exactly. This isn't just a strike team, it's a surgical force. Every move, every action, is calculated to minimize loss and maximize impact. You'll be Arica's shield, spear, and sword. The Infernal Realm won't just be t; it will be stopped. And you, my friends, will be heroes. So shut the fuck up, and enjoy."
The President's tense posture eased, a rare smile spreading across his face. "Excellent. Finally, so hope."
Relief echoed through the chamber. Leaders exchanged nods, Adventurers relaxed into confident stances, and even Zane's smirk widened. Project Dominion was finally ready to take over the world.
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